


so close

by collegefangirl3791



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015), Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Angst, Declarations Of Love, F/M, Force Bond (Star Wars), Grey Reylo, Hurt/Comfort, Injured Rey, Injury, Major Character Injury, Mind Reading, Post-TLJ, RFFA Valentines Exchange, Sad with a Happy Ending, Sass, they are my angsty children
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-29
Updated: 2018-01-29
Packaged: 2019-03-10 23:31:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,776
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13512042
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/collegefangirl3791/pseuds/collegefangirl3791
Summary: Rey is near-fatally injured trying to fight Hux and a few of the Knights of Ren. Kylo escapes with her, but for how long?





	so close

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Like_A_Dove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Like_A_Dove/gifts).



Fighting side by side with her had become as natural to him as breathing, as thinking. He could feel her emotions, her plans, and he knew she could feel his. He caught an inkling of a plan she had – she was going to shove a trooper out of her way and directly into his path, and he killed the trooper in front of him and was ready as the second one stumbled past his ready saber. He swept his lightsaber down and cut his opponent in half, casually. It was times like these that the Darkness threatened him more than it usually did, times like these he was glad Rey’s mind was intertwined with his.

She eased some of the anger, helped him channel it, helped him focus. _I think I know where Hux is,_ she told him, her voice echoing in his head. _I’ll go for him, you stay with the Resistance._ He knew why she didn’t want him near Hux – there was only so much control he had, yet, over his anger. She took off running, and he let her thoughts and feelings settle into a corner of his mind where he could feel them but they wouldn’t distract him.

He was supposed to help some of the Resistance ground troops lead an assault that would keep the First Order military busy and, if possible, take out some of their anti-aircraft weaponry. The real battle was raging in the sky above them, and several times now he’d had to help defend Resistance troops from falling debris. The goal was that at the end of this battle, the Resistance would have freed Jedha from the First Order presence there – and, Kylo privately hoped, have rid the galaxy of Hux entirely.

The First Order had armies to spare, but the Resistance didn’t. So somehow it was Kylo’s job to keep this company alive. He’d been trusted with the lives of around a hundred soldiers, and he found himself determined to live up to the task. He’d done things with the Force today he hadn’t known he could, and he was exhausted, but he kept fighting, kept killing, because he’d only lost twelve soldiers so far and that was already too many.

Rey suddenly felt alarmed in the back of his mind, and he sent a thought at her: _Are you okay?_

 _Some of your Knights are here_ , she told him. She sounded unconcerned but he could feel she was frightened. _Just three_.

He almost stopped fighting, but thankfully caught himself first. He stabbed his saber through two troopers at once. _Can you deal with them?_

_Sure. You taught me enough._

Kylo hadn’t, but he felt her uncertainty shift to resolve, and she pushed him back, most of the way out of her thoughts.

And he knew, suddenly, that she was going to run straight into that fight with her customary fire and straightforwardness and she was _not_ ready to face three of the Knights alone.

He spun around and charged through the ranks, looking for the captain he’d been told was the company’s official leader. He found her grappling with a stormtrooper over a gun, and with a short gesture he snapped the trooper’s spine and grabbed the captain’s shoulder. The captain (Cet was her name), predictably, looked panicked on seeing him for a moment before focusing.

“I need you to keep this company together,” he growled. “Rey needs my help or she’s going to die. Retreat if you have to, I don’t care, but don’t get them killed.”

Captain Cet nodded. “Understood.” She smacked his hand away, grabbed her blaster off the ground, and took off, shouting orders.

And Kylo ran. He drew on his anger and fear and felt the Darkness flood hot into his fingertips, so familiar. Forget trying to manage it, forget controlling it. Rey had pushed him so far out of her mind that all he could feel from her were pulses of emotion: fear, anger, ferocity.

He kept to the outskirts of the battle, following the feeling of Rey’s mind, and had to fight a few times, but he still got to her faster than he’d thought possible. He was so close he could see the battle (blurs of red and black and in their midst, pale grey and blue) when he felt it, and for a moment he was sure he’d been shot. He stumbled to a stop and stared wildly around but saw no one. And then he looked down and for a moment, everything went impossibly still.

He was fine. His gambeson was spotless, there was no wound, and yet his stomach burned and he had to fight down vomit.

_Rey._

He looked up and there was no more blue, no more grey. Just the black and the red.

He couldn’t have said later exactly what he did, only that the Force tightened into a burning mass in his stomach and he reached for her mind with his, in a panic. They would _kill_ her, he knew that, almost as certainly as he knew he would never let that happen.

He found himself shouting, found himself running, found himself letting the Force do whatever it wanted to do as long as it meant they’d somehow leave her alone, and there was darkness and ripping and screaming and he was by her side as the Force howled and he desperately swept around him with his saber. He couldn’t even tell if she was awake or trying to communicate because it was just him and the Force and the pain, so crippling and present in his stomach, reminding him she couldn’t defend herself.

He regained awareness slowly, the Force dissipating as the threat did. The Knights were dead, although he wasn’t entirely sure how – one looked as if he’d been ripped to pieces. Kylo realized he’d been stabbed in the leg, and he was trembling because he’d apparently been slashed across his back, too. But he was alive, he was able to move, so he staggered to his feet, struggling to lift Rey with him. She was alive, the pain told him that, but she’d closed her eyes and her thoughts responded only slowly to his.

And they were surrounded.

Not by the Knights anymore, but he knew it wouldn’t be long before Hux realized the Knights had failed, and he stood here in the middle of walkers and speeders, First Order fighters screaming through the air above them. So he drew on the Force again, beginning to feel the effects of the Darkness choking him, and clung Rey tighter to his chest. He had to get them somewhere sheltered, and then… and then he wasn’t sure what. But he tried to pretend he had hope, tried to pretend he wasn’t terrified, and started walking. With his saber clipped to his belt, and nothing but the Force (which he felt he barely controlled now), he started walking towards the closest thing he saw to shelter: the crumbled ruins of a stone statue that may once have resembled a Jedi but now just looked like a toppled tombstone.

 _We can do this,_ he thought at Rey, but there was no response besides a kind of tired agreement. He wasn’t sure his back would keep supporting him, and his leg was starting to worry him too, but stopping wasn’t an option. So instead, he pushed himself from a walk to a jog, although he felt how the running jostled her because it caused him pain, too.

 _Please, please, please,_ he thought. He couldn’t lose her. He couldn’t.

And then the first bolt streaked past his shoulder and sprayed sand high into the air. No. No, this couldn’t happen. Please, not to them. Not to _her_. So he just ran faster. He pulled on the Force and aimed for the statue and the slight shelter it would provide and he tried not to let the pain drag him under.

The next bolts were so close he felt the heat of them and the sand strafed his back, but then he knew he’d made it, knew as his legs gave way and he fell, holding Rey even more tightly. They were okay. He was okay.

He laid Rey down and automatically brushed his hands over her wound, pushing aside her tunic, trying not to hurt her. He could tell it was bad, sensed the Knight’s weapon had gone deep. At the very least she wasn’t bleeding.

 _Ben,_ she thought at him, and her eyes opened and they were clearer than he’d expected. He let himself relax a bit, and finally the Darkness abandoned him to the full extent of his pain and exhaustion.

“Rey,” he said, fingers still fluttering around her wound. Luke had tried for a long time to teach him Force healing, but he was terrible at it and he wasn’t even sure it would help. If the Resistance could get to them she might be fine, but the Resistance was in the middle of a battle. They were alone. He thought they might have time, though.

As long as Hux didn’t figure out they’d survived for a little while.

 _I’m fine_. She wasn’t convincing, since their minds were so close to each other again, and he pushed his feelings of disbelief at her. He tried to hide his fear as far from her as possible.

”What were you _thinking_?” he said, somehow unsure how to articulate anything else.

(Why hadn’t he taught her better, how could have let her go off to find Hux alone, what if he lost her now because of it?)

 _Excuse me, it was a good idea,_ she grumbled, and she started trying to sit up and Kylo stopped her with a fierce thought.

“I’m sorry,” he said, swallowing. “You weren’t ready. I should have known he’d have recruited them.”

He felt her soften, and she rolled her eyes at him. “You… you kriffing idiot,” she said wearily. “It isn’t your fault.”

She said that a lot. He thought maybe someday he’d believe her. “I just… Maker, Rey, why did you _do_ that?”

“I had to.” She sent him a kind of reminder, of how they needed Hux gone but it couldn’t be him because he’d let too much of the Dark back in if he tried.

“I did anyway, Rey.” He met her eyes and pushed a few damp curls of hair out of her face with one hand. His own injuries screamed for his attention, but he ignored them. “I don’t even know what happened.”

“I… felt it, a bit,” she admitted. She tried sitting up again, and he grabbed her shoulder and wouldn’t let her. “Are you okay?”

He laughed sharply. “Do I _seem_ okay?”

She pulled a face and thought a colorful string of insults. He generously attributed the descriptors to the pain they were both in.

He sighed and tried to reach out to the Force, to try to heal her, because although he knew he’d barely be able to help her at all, it was worth a try. But somehow that hurt, as if he’d overextended himself, and a heavy feeling of dread settled on his shoulders. He couldn’t do anything. It was just them, huddled on the sand in the shadow of a fallen Jedi, waiting.

Rey grabbed his hand, weakly, and he met her eyes again. There was pain in hers, and he felt she was struggling. _We’ll be alright. Someone will come._

No one would come. But he knew she needed to believe they would, and he couldn't bring himself to stifle her hope. Not when he could feel her wound growing worse, her body struggling to continue functioning under the strain of so much damage. "Right," he said softly, holding on tight to her hand. "But if they don't," he found himself saying, fierce, low, "can you please be okay anyway?"

"Ben-" she started, and he shook his head.

"I know, I know, you're fine. I just want you to promise."

"Why?" And Rey's eyes focused more on his face, and she looked thoughtful. Suddenly she was shielding her thoughts from him and he hated that, hated that he didn't know what she was thinking.

Why? Because he couldn't lose her. Because he'd lost enough, been hurt enough times, and he wasn't sure how to face losing her too. Because facing the Dark alone was so much harder. Because she deserved better (she deserved the galaxy), because she'd been hurt enough too and she deserved to get to be happy. Because she was safe, she was the only thing that he was willing to associate with home anymore, and she cared about him. Genuinely, honestly, cared. And he wanted her to be alright. He wanted her to get off this forsaken desert ruin and get to see rain again. He wanted… he wanted things he shouldn’t.

"I just need you to be okay," he whispered. He didn't dare articulate the truth building in his head, the one he'd been avoiding for a long time.

She nodded, closed her eyes, and let him back into her mind. Her thoughts were surprisingly serene, although he could tell she was in a lot more pain already. _You’re hurt too,_ she thought. _If you promise to be okay, I will too._

“I’m not in any mortal danger, Rey,” he said, because although he was in excruciating pain, he knew nothing truly vital had been damaged.

_If they figure out we’re alive and hiding here, you will be._

“Fine,” he murmured, squeezing her hand. “I promise.”

 _Good…_ She sounded exhausted, and he felt the rhythms of her thoughts starting to slow and he gripped her hand tighter, suddenly panicked. She couldn’t sleep, he knew at least that much. What if she fell asleep and didn’t wake up? “Rey, stay awake for me.” She hummed a little and nodded, but her breathing was slowing, weariness slipping sinuous through her thoughts. “Rey? Maker, Rey, don’t go to sleep. Please.” He couldn’t sit here in silence, listening to her thoughts and being afraid she was leaving him. And he’d heard once that it was bad to go to sleep when you were injured, although he no longer remembered why. But if she slept, he felt, she wouldn’t wake up.

 _‘m fine._ Her thoughts were too sluggish. Kylo grabbed both her hands, jostled her just a bit and pushed himself to scoot closer to her, although that hurt.

“No, you aren’t. You can’t go to sleep, Rey, you can’t-” He swallowed, staring at her ashen face desperately. “You can’t just leave me here by myself.”

The Dark seeped soft and tempting into his field of vision, hovering just out of reach. He knew how to face it alone, but he wasn’t sure he could _right now_. “Rey, please,” he whispered.

That barely elicited a response. He nudged insistently at her thoughts, chasing into her mottled dreams and trying to pull some more of her pain to himself. She couldn’t leave him, he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t be alone without her now, not when it was his fault and he was injured and the Resistance was counting on them and Hux was still alive. If anyone deserved to die, it was him, not her.

 _I need you. I love you_ , he thought. Still nothing from her. She was unconscious, and his stomach felt empty and the Dark howled into his chest. He kept it stifled and kept holding her hands. _Please._

Suddenly, a familiar feeling drew his attention from her face out to the landscape around them. At first he couldn’t figure out why, and then he saw them: his company of Resistance fighters standing out on the plains, having broken through the enemy lines, facing down Hux’s heavy artillery. He stared, shocked. He’d never expected they’d come after him – he didn’t think this qualified as “not getting them killed.”

He had promised not to, but he sent an invading thought at Captain Cet with all the force he could, and he saw her grab her head. _We’re over here. She needs help._

Immediately the captain started leading the company towards them, and Kylo realized she’d somehow gotten some of the X-Wings to cover them. If he had to guess, he’d say they’d simply told them Rey may be in danger. He still didn’t really care for the Resistance, but they had come to uneasy terms because they all agreed that they could not lose Rey. She was their hope as much as she was his.

Kylo gritted his teeth and tucked his arms under Rey’s shoulders and knees again, then pushed himself to one knee, trying not to pay attention to his own pain. Without quite meaning to, he drew on the Darkness to stagger to his feet, keeping Rey held as still as possible against him. Using the Force still hurt, and he knew he’d pushed himself way too far today.

They’d come. He couldn’t quite believe it. And of course they hadn’t followed him for his own sake, but they still had followed. Because of Rey.

He watched the company run to them, watched fire from a walker take out some ten of them at once. An X-Wing blew up the walker a moment later. He didn’t want to leave the shadow of the statue, but he did, walking unsteadily, slowly, towards the coming soldiers until finally they met him, forming a defensive ring around the two of them. Captain Cet met his eyes with a look of begrudging acceptance. “They’re sending a medical shuttle for her. Do you need it too?”

“No, I-”

“He does,” one of the fighters asserted shortly, from behind him. “He’s not in good shape, Captain.” Kylo fought down the urge to say something cutting. They were letting him leave the battle, and he knew he’d be no good to them now anyway.

“You’re taking the shuttle with her,” Captain Cet snapped. “They’ll help her, Ren,” she added, and Kylo wasn’t sure if that was meant to comfort him or reassure her troops or both.

Two soldiers came over with a stretcher (they were the field medics, if he remembered right, but they wouldn’t be prepared for Rey’s injury), and set it down on the ground in front of him. “We can take her,” they said.

Kylo didn’t want to let go of her, although he was swaying and in danger of falling again. He glanced between them, uncertain. There was security in holding her – he didn’t want to risk anything else going wrong, him missing anything.

“We won’t hurt her, and you can stay right with her,” one of them said quietly, and Kylo sensed that this man hated him, but his voice was understanding.

With a sigh, he bent down (and his back spasmed and he nearly pitched forward) and set her on the stretcher, careful of her head.

…

It wasn’t until they were on the medical shuttle, well away from the battle, that Rey woke up again. Kylo felt it the second she did, although he’d been forced to sit well away from her and let them assess his injuries. He was quick to push his thoughts at her, worry and relief and weariness.

 _I’m fine_ , she thought. _Seriously._

_Only because we’re on a medical shuttle and they’re fixing you._

_Fair enough._ There was a long break in her thoughts, and he caught snatches of something that scared him. _So you love me?_ There was such vulnerability in that question, in the way she brushed carefully through his thoughts like she was afraid of hurting him, although she sounded careless.

He didn’t want to think about it. It had been a desperate thing to think, to say, and he wanted to avoid admitting it clearly, definitely. There was no safety in something like that, and there was no coming back from it. Whether he did or not _(he did)_ was immaterial – he wouldn’t risk losing Rey again today by telling her something so dangerous.

 _Because I love you, you know,_ she thought, and he knew she was frightened as she said it, knew she was risking a lot telling him that.

So he pulled away from her mind, pushed away the droids hovering around him, and stood. She was just in the next room on the shuttle, and he walked down the hall, studiously keeping himself from thinking too much, because thinking too much might make him do something stupid.

She was sitting up on a padded chair, looking worn and sweaty and tired, droids and medics all buzzing fretfully around her. She looked up and met his eyes and he could tell that in the few seconds he’d left her mind, she’d been terrified, but he hadn’t wanted this to happen while they sat in different rooms.

“I didn’t… I couldn’t lose you,” he said, and she waved her hands in a shooing motion and the medical droids and personnel backed off. Her lips curved upwards in the slow beginnings of one of her perpetually hopeful smiles. “I didn’t mean to think that.”

“But you did,” she said.

“I… did,” he admitted, heavily. “And I… Maker, Rey, I meant it.” He felt like he was falling, stepping off the edge of something in the void and there was nothing to do but wait, wait for her to catch him.

“I did too.” And her eyes were so soft, and he took two steps towards her and bent to cup her face carefully in his hands, a bit afraid, yet, of hurting her more.

“I’m so sorry,” he told her, and she put her hands over his, smiling at him.

“And I’m not.”

He kissed her softly, light and timid, because some part of him thought she’d still pull away. And that was okay because it was her, it was safe, and she was alive and _Maker,_ she felt like home.

“You’re stupid,” she whispered, her forehead pressed against his. “I told you I was fine.”

“And I told you not to go to sleep,” he grumbled. “You don’t listen.”

“Neither do you.”

He snorted softly and straightened, letting go of her face but then grabbing her hand. He didn’t care how much she called him stupid, he was just glad he hadn’t lost her. The fear still swam in the back of his mind, but he ignored it. Things like that could wait, the Dark could wait, the bloody Resistance could wait.

She was alright, and (he felt giddy and disbelieving even thinking it) she loved him. There was nothing that could take this from him, not even his fear. Not for now.

**Author's Note:**

> I've never done a fic exchange before? So I hope this is good? I really like it, I think - these two angsty children are my faves.
> 
> Lemme know what you think!


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